


The Words I Could Never Say

by acta_est_fabula



Series: Reconciliation [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Impending Death, Light Angst, Other, The comfort comes later :D, resignation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28871394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acta_est_fabula/pseuds/acta_est_fabula
Summary: He stalked forward, and flipped open the chest, bending down to get a better glance at its contents. There were a few potions and pearls missing, along with a few Golden apples. And in their place, there was...a book? Techno blinked, reaching down to pluck it up out of the mess of items. Techno stood, flipping down the chest, and leaned against the wall. Turning the first page, the words  "The Words I Could Never Say", with Tommy’s messy scrawl written underneath it.“Tommy wrote this?” Techno asked, disbelievingly. “Never thought I’d see the day where he had enough patience to sit down and write something in full. This’ll be good.” He flipped to the next page.
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Reconciliation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130498
Comments: 23
Kudos: 629





	The Words I Could Never Say

Techno sighed as he pushed open the door to his cabin, rolling his shoulder in discomfort. It had been an eventful day, to put it bluntly. The voyage to Niki’s had been a long one, and hadn’t been exactly fruitful, with her focusing on her other goals of revenge firstmost. It wasn’t the response that he had been looking for--after all, the syndicate could use more members to further their goals of anarchism--but he could respect one’s desire for payback. After all, it was something that he was entirely too familiar with. 

Then there was the matter of Tommy that he had to deal with. Techno groaned as he remembered that earlier, the mendicant had barged into his house again, and had allegedly stolen a few pearls and potions from. Still, it’d be best if he checked to make sure if anything else was missing. After all, Tommy wasn’t exactly known for his keen honesty. 

He stalked forward, and flipped open the chest, bending down to get a better glance at its contents. There were a few potions and pearls missing, along with a few Golden apples. And in their place, there was...a book? Techno blinked, reaching down to pluck it up out of the mess of items. Techno stood, flipping down the chest, and leaned against the wall. Turning the first page, the words The Words I Could Never Say, with Tommy’s messy scrawl written underneath it.

“Tommy wrote this?” Techno asked, disbelievingly. “Never thought I’d see the day where he had enough patience to sit down and write something in full. This’ll be good.” He flipped to the next page.

_Dear Techno,_

_I’ve never really been one to write letters or shit like that--I’ve always thought that people should speak with their voices, face to face. But desperate times call for desperate measures (or so that I’ve been told), so I leave this to you as a final gift--or burden, if you see it that way--as a last defense for, well everything._

_I’m going to die tomorrow._

Techno paused, rereading to see if he had read those words correctly. Tommy was going to die tommorow? Well, it did make sense as to why he was stocking up on items then.

_...writing those words seems to really solidify it somehow. I haven’t spoken to you much since with what happened back at L’Manberg on Doomsday, with good reason of course. I still don’t agree with what you did back there with Phil and Dream; L’Manberg’s been really the only home that I’ve ever had here. With Tubbo, Niki, Fundy, Jack Manifold, even Eret._

_With Wilbur._

_All of us, united under a single cause, hoisting a flag as we marched on as revolutionaries. Those were simpler times back then, when our biggest worries were how we could try to begin our drug monopoly on the SMP. And even when I had to give up those discs, or when all of us were blasted to pieces in the Final Control Room, life never seemed as bleak as it does now. Maybe it’s the nostalgia talking, or perhaps I’ve been blinded and have simply omitted the distressing parts, but whatever it might be, I miss it. I miss the straightforwardness of it all. I miss the old L’Manberg, with its walls offering a refuge for those who didn’t want to bend to Dream’s rules. I miss watching the sunset with Tubbo on my bench outside of my house, where we’d look up at the salmon-colored clouds, and imagine shapes out of them (Tubbo always saw bees for some reason)._

_I miss Wilbur most of all._

_Every day, since that dreadful 16th, I’ve ached for him to be here, to tell me what to do, or lay out our schemes for the day. He was always the one who was the leader, not me. He was the president after all--Wilbur always had a plan ready at hand, waiting to implement it. It was Wilbur who sought out to create L’Manberg as a place of safety and a shield of freedom, and it was Wilbur who pressed that dreadful button that ended it all._

_It haunts me in my dreams, you know. Even now, as I write this, I can still see it in my head: Wilbur reaching out to thump his fist against that wooden square. And even now, I still don’t get it Techno. You probably don’t know this, but Wilbur had shown us that room multiple times prior to the final attack on L’Manberg. We’d talked him out of it so many times, that I thought that he wasn’t going to follow through with it. And there was no reason for him to do it. We had just won back L’Manberg, after working and scheming so long to retake it back from Schlatt. L’Manberg was ours again--all of our blood, sweat and tears, everything that we had worked for--gone just like that! When did Wilbur start thinking that L’Manberg was “gone”? When did he start thinking that none of us cared about his wellbeing when it was the only thing that I could think about? When was it that Wilbur forgot that L’Manberg wasn’t the land that we had built our nation upon, but rather, it lived in the hearts and souls of its citizens? We were all fighting to take it back--hell, it was the most united we’ve ever been ever since the election! Manberg and Pogtopia working together to fight against a common dictator, all in the hopes of taking him down._

_When did Wilbur start thinking that he was alone and had nobody to turn to?_

_These are all questions that have accumulated in this head of mine, but I suppose I’ll never be able to ask him them. Ghostbur’s nice and all, but he’s just not the same. In fact, he’s too nice. Too kind. Too gentle._

_Too easy to break._

_I’m not sure if you’ve gotten word of it, but Phil tried to resurrect Wilbur by re-enacting his death by killing Ghostbur with the same sword that he impaled Wilbur with. Obviously, it didn’t work; the only thing that’s changed apparently is that Ghostbur’s now G-g-ghostbur (one extra g for every time that he dies, apparently). Phil said he’d do more research and try again at a later date, here’s hoping it all pans out well. If it works, great! You’ll have Wilbur back, up and kicking._

_If not? Well, I suppose he’ll have me to keep him company._

_I never did apologize to you, did I Techno? Now that I’m staring death in squarely in the eye, suddenly everything becomes so much more clear. Is this what Wilbur felt like in his last few days of his life?_

_But I digress._

_I’m truly sorry for everything that I’ve done to you, Techno. I’ve always been a bit of a little shit--_ Techno wrinkles his nose in amusement. _That’s understating it,_ he thinks to himself.

\-- _but I hope that you can truly accept this apology. I’ve always looked up to you, you know. You’re a lot like Wilbur in the sense that if you truly want to get something done, once you’ve set your mind to it, there’s no stopping you. I’ve always admired your efficacy and diligence. The potato war, the duel with Dream--even your preparations to destroy L’Manberg not just once, but twice. You really are something else, aren’t you Blade?_

_Those few weeks hanging out with you in the cabin, I miss them. I miss it when we were back in Pogtopia, and Wilbur wasn’t around, and we’d go around fucking with other people’s lives and shit like that. You’ve been good to me all these years, even though we aren’t related. But it still feels like you’ve been a big brother to me--sometimes, even more than Wilbur has._

_Do you remember the first time you took me to Hypixel, Techno? I think that day was one of the happiest memories that I can recall. It was just the two of us, with Phil and Wilbur going off to look into upper levels schools, and Phil dumped me with you for the day. We spent the entire day wandering around the floating city; that was the first time I’d seen that many people congregated in one place! And we were walking around, you pointing out proudly your list of achievements in various games and sports. It was a bit endearing honestly, the terrible, horrifying Blood God, acting like a child, showing off his medals and trophies._

“Knew I shouldn’t have flaunted those around him,” Techno mutters, though the words have no heat behind them. He turns to the next page.

_I’m sorry for everything that’s happened between us, Techno. Perhaps, in a different life, we’d have time to figure things out. To properly sit down and understand each other. But it seems as though fate has a different plan in store for me._

_...can you promise me two things?_

_It’s supposed to be me and Tubbo against Dream tomorrow, but I know, in my heart of hearts, that it’s not fair to Tubbo to drag him into my fight. I’ve given him the wrong time for the meeting, so that I’ll be going first, alone. Tubbo deserves a better friend then me, Techno. He’s treated me with nothing but kindness and love. I know that you probably don’t believe me, seeing that he exiled me and all, but I do genuinely think that Tubbo did it because he was afraid of me dying in the potential skirmish that would break out if he refused Dream’s demands._

_Could you keep an eye out on Tubbo once I’m gone? I’m afraid for him, Techno. Once I’m gone, he’ll be all alone, with nobody to aid him or guide him. He’s always relied on the strength of others to help him through life. I know you’re not a huge fan of him, but consider this a request from a dying man._

_I don’t want him to be alone._

_Niki, Fundy and Eret aren’t here anymore. Jack’s off doing his own thing, and Quackity’s too busy being consumed by hatred and tiredness to do a proper job. I don’t quite trust Phil with this, seeing as, well, you know him better than I do._

_And the two of us know that Wilbur’s gone._

_You’re kind, Techno. I do believe that. So if you could make sure he’s not too sad, or that he’s eating regular meals, that’d be amazing._

_The second thing is, well._

_I hope that once this is all over, that you can find some peace within yourself. I know that others have treated you poorly and all, but maybe, after a bit of time, you can learn to trust others again. It’s awfully hypocritical of me to ask this of you, but perhaps as life moves on, you’ll see that not everybody is like me. Do you reckon you could do that for me?_

_I’ll make Wilbur proud tomorrow._

_With love,_

_Tommyinnit._

The book in his hands is being clenched so tightly that were he another man, Techno would be worried that the pages of the book would tear apart. Seeing as he’s himself, there’s other pressing matters to worry about. He stalks to the window, pressing the trapdoor open, and bellows Ranboo’s name.

“What is it?” the Enderman asks, startlingly. 

“Come here for a minute, will you Ranboo?” Techno asks, an angry snarl in his voice. He shuts the window. Seconds later, the door to the cabin is flung open, the Enderman hybrid staring in bemusement, huffing slightly from the short run.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Techno asks frigidly.

“Uh. Well, I don’t know, maybe a walk with the dogs or something-”

Techno slams his fist against the wall, Ranboo jumping slightly. “Clear them. We’ve got an emergency on our hands.”

“And what is that exactly?” Ranboo asks, timidly. 

Techno smiles, his lips stretching around his blunt tusks in a feral grin. “You see, Tommy’s gone off and gotten himself into some trouble tomorrow. He’s given in to Dream already, and he’s accepted that there’s no way for him to live tomorrow.”

“I see.” The taller hybrid fidgets with his hands, staring at the floor. “So what does that have to do with us exactly?”

“Well,” Techno begins in a drawl. “Tommy’s still like my younger brother, you know. And I haven’t exactly forgiven Dream for what he did to Wilbur. Plus,” and here he shrugs, “I think it’d be good to take him down a peg or two.” He reaches for the axe on the wall, twirling it a bit once it’s planted in his hands.

“Sorry Theseus, but it looks like your story’s not over yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry.  
> Feedback is appreciated!


End file.
